Cash, Courts, and Controversy: What the Yashwant Varma Case Reveals About Judicial Accountability in India

Cash, Courts, and Controversy: What the Yashwant Varma Case Reveals About Judicial Accountability in India

In an unexpected turn of events in March 2025, a fire broke out at the Delhi home of Justice Yashwant Varma, then serving on the Delhi High Court. What appeared to be a routine emergency quickly spiraled into controversy when fire personnel allegedly discovered bundles of half-burnt cash during their operation. The incident, which took place on the festive night of Holi, was not just about flames or property damage—it sparked a deeper debate about judicial transparency, rule of law, and how powerful institutions respond to internal accusations.

Despite the seriousness of the discovery, what drew widespread criticism was the inaction that followed. No First Information Report (FIR) was registered, even though unaccounted cash at any premises, regardless of status, falls under the purview of a cognizable offence. This inaction drew sharp criticism from Vice President Jagdeep Dhankhar, who raised fundamental concerns about whether legal immunity was being misinterpreted as legal impunity.

Dhankhar publicly questioned the absence of an FIR, stating that if such a situation had occurred in an average citizen’s house, law enforcement agencies would have acted with exceptional speed. He pointedly remarked that in such a case, the process would move at “electronic rocket” speed, but in this instance, the system was slower than a "cattle cart." This comment wasn’t just metaphor—it underscored the unevenness in how laws are applied, depending on the stature of the individual involved.

Adding further depth to the debate, the Vice President challenged the view that judicial independence grants absolute protection against legal scrutiny. According to him, such blanket immunity could lead to the deterioration of institutional credibility. Judicial independence, in his view, is essential for fairness, but it cannot be used as a shield to block accountability or delay due process. “It is the law of the land that every cognizable offence must be reported to the police,” Dhankhar said, reminding the nation that failure to report such an offence is itself a criminal act.

Interestingly, the Supreme Court did take note of the matter and established a three-member internal committee to investigate the incident. It also ordered the transfer of Justice Varma to the Allahabad High Court. While this action appeared to be a step in the right direction, it too was questioned. Critics, including Dhankhar, pointed out that in-house judicial committees have limited powers—they can recommend but not enforce. This raises questions about whether internal disciplinary mechanisms within the judiciary are strong enough to ensure public trust.

The judiciary's internal framework allows for very limited intervention. As per the Indian Constitution, the removal of a sitting judge can only be carried out through a motion in Parliament, a provision that ensures protection from political interference but also creates a vacuum in holding judges accountable in the short term. The legal process is so stringent and rare that it has been invoked only a handful of times in Indian history.

This incident also brings into focus the long-standing debate about judicial appointments and internal oversight. In 2014, the Indian government passed the 99th Constitutional Amendment along with the National Judicial Appointments Commission (NJAC) Act. These legal instruments sought to replace the closed-door collegium system, where judges appoint judges, with a more participative and transparent selection process. The NJAC was designed to include a mix of judiciary, executive, and civil representatives, ensuring broader scrutiny and more democratic functioning.

Article 124A, inserted through the amendment, detailed the structure of the NJAC, comprising the Chief Justice of India, two senior Supreme Court judges, the Union Law Minister, and two eminent individuals. These eminent persons were to be selected by a panel consisting of the Prime Minister, the Chief Justice of India, and the Leader of the Opposition in the Lok Sabha. Importantly, one of the two nominees had to be from a marginalized section—Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, minorities, or women.

Further, Article 124B outlined the NJAC's primary roles: recommending appointments and transfers of judges and ensuring candidates met the standards of competence and integrity. Article 124C gave Parliament the authority to regulate procedures and empower the NJAC to frame guidelines for fulfilling its functions. It was envisioned as a reformative step toward making the judicial selection process less opaque and more accountable.

However, in 2015, the Supreme Court declared both the 99th Amendment and the NJAC Act unconstitutional. The reasoning was rooted in the “basic structure doctrine”—a constitutional principle that prohibits Parliament from altering the essential framework of the Constitution. The Court argued that judicial independence was being compromised by allowing non-judicial figures to influence appointments, potentially paving the way for executive overreach. The verdict reinstated the collegium system, keeping judicial appointments solely in the hands of the judiciary.

But the same structure that prevents political interference also seems to be making accountability difficult. The Justice Varma case exposes this paradox. How can the system ensure that the judiciary remains answerable without inviting undue interference from other branches of government? It’s a fine balance between independence and accountability—a balance that many believe India has yet to perfect.

This controversy raises important questions. If internal committees are toothless, and Parliament’s removal mechanism is nearly impossible to invoke, then what remains in between? Should there be an independent oversight body that includes civil society representation but does not infringe on judicial independence? Could a reimagined NJAC model serve as that middle path?

For the judiciary to function with public trust, transparency is non-negotiable. The perception that certain individuals are beyond the reach of the law weakens the rule of law and erodes democratic confidence. As the Vice President rightfully pointed out, justice must not only be independent but visibly accountable. In the absence of prompt legal action, speculation takes root, and institutional credibility suffers.

In the long run, the solution lies in systemic reform. Strengthening internal vigilance, revisiting constitutional mechanisms, and ensuring that no individual—no matter how high—is immune to investigation, are all essential steps. The Indian judiciary has long been a pillar of democracy, but like any institution, it must evolve with the times and demands of a more informed citizenry.

The March 2025 incident is more than just a headline. It is a litmus test for our institutions—will they stand firm on principle, or falter in the face of hierarchy? If India is to uphold the values enshrined in its Constitution, then its institutions, especially the judiciary, must lead by example.